


The Púka's Share

by Marlon



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Fox!Hux, M/M, Puka!Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 18:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlon/pseuds/Marlon
Summary: When Kylo's life goes spectacularly sideways, he decides he needs a fresh start. He sees a job posting for a position in Dublin and leaps at the opportunity to get as far away as he can get from New York and all its bad memories. Once he's settled into his cottage in the tiny village of Slane, he finds that extreme good fortune seems to follow him wherever he goes. He's mystified by it because he's never had any kind of charmed life - it can't all be due to the strange little fox that lives in the forest beyond the stone wall, can it?





	The Púka's Share

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally hopping on the fox!Hux bandwagon three years late! Thanks to Christoph and Wyomingnot for being a second and third set of eyes on the story.

_It’s ridiculous that you’re living in Slane_

_Come live with us in Dublin_

_Driving every day is bad for the environment_

Kylo rolls his eyes lightly but smiles as he responds to Rey’s text blast.

_I just need to get away from it all for a while_

He snorts as Rey simply responds with a series of rolling eye emojis. Kylo slumps back against the narrow airline seat, letting his hands drop into his lap. Rolling his head to the left he gazes out over the tarmac and beyond to the fields of Dublin International Airport. The sky is completely overcast, leaden gray with solid cloud cover, of course, but the pastures lining the runways are green and verdant.

Rey buzzes him a few more times, entreating him to rethink his plan to live outside the city. She finally signs off with the promise to see him shortly at the Arrivals bay. Kylo tucks his phone away as the jet slows to a stop at the gate and the noise in the cabin increases in volume. He’s surrounded by excited tourists chattering about the castles they’ll see and weary locals eager to be home after time abroad. Kylo wishes he could share in their enthusiasm.

Not that he’s unhappy about being here, not at all, he loves Ireland. He just wishes it didn’t look like he was running away from New York with his tail between his legs.

It takes approximately a year, it seems, for the pilot to maneuver the plane into position so the jetway can be lowered. Why is this always the slowest part of the whole journey? Kylo can hardly wait to get out of his seat, his legs have been cramping for the last hour and his back is sore - the cabin just wasn’t designed to accommodate someone of his size. When he’s finally able to scramble over the seats to the aisle, he leans his hands against the overhead bins so he can arch into a brief stretch before pulling out his bags. Shouldering his backpack and shoving his other duffle bag ahead of him, he carefully picks his way down the aisle, passing by several messy rows with cookie and pretzel remains ground into the carpet and strewn with forgotten colouring books and crayons. The flight attendant wishes him a good day as he steps off the plane and onto the jetway.

Kylo’s mother, Leia, was born in Dublin and while his uncle and cousin live there still, his mother fled to the bright lights and job opportunities only New York could offer as soon as she was able. That’s where Kylo was born and grew up, and while this isn’t an unfamiliar trip he’s making to Ireland, this time, he won’t be going back to New York at the end of two weeks. This move permanent. Or semi-permanent, at least, for now. Everything depends on how well he fits in at the university, he supposes.

What had already been a bad year, what with the department rejecting his application for tenure yet again, turned catastrophic when his long-term partner suddenly announced they were leaving him. Kylo felt like an idiot, he had been so blind to the signs, blithely thinking everything was fine when it really wasn’t. The thought of the beautiful vintage wedding ring perched in its silk case still pricks unhappily at the back of Kylo’s mind - at least he hadn’t proposed yet, he’s not sure if he could have survived that much heartbreak.

With all that upheaval in his life, moving to Ireland has been a piece of cake so far. When the posting for a potentially tenure-track position at the University College of Dublin came up, Kylo leapt at the opportunity - if the universities in New York didn’t want his talents, then another school would happily take him. And honestly, Manhattan is no longer big enough for both himself and Poe. How could he continue to live in a place where nearly every single block held a cafe or restaurant, diner or gallery that reminded him of happier times. 

Tears threaten so Kylo squeezes his eyes shut tightly - he’s not going to cry in this long line-up for Customs and Immigration, he’s not. He can’t bear to have a total stranger pity him. He sniffs back the tears and swallows his churning emotions then takes a deep inhale, trying to centre himself. Luckily, the line up for Immigration and Customs is moving slowly so he has a chance to compose himself.

God, he’s so tired in his body and in his heart. 

Thankfully, the line finally begins moving a bit faster and it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s speaking with the customs official and then moving onto the baggage area. Collecting his bag from the clunky conveyor belt he heads to the reception hall, yawning hugely.

Rey spots him first. She hurries toward him, a squirming Jack Russell terrier in her arms, then throws her free arm around him in a tight hug.

“You made it!”

He grins at her. “You know I did, you were texting me non-stop the minute we landed.” He scritches the excitable dog behind its ears.

Rey sobers. “I’m sorry about everything, Ky, I really am.” She tucked a stray lock of his hair behind his ear.

Kylo catches her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll be alright, eventually. Let the past die and all that.”

She nods as Luke approaches. “Hey, kid. Ready to go?”

Kylo leans down to hug his uncle. “Let’s get out of here.”

Together, they load Kylo’s meagre belongings into the back of Luke’s car - the rest of his things will ship later once he’s settled. The house he’s rented in Slane won’t be ready for him for a week yet, which gives him time to get his bearings and settle in at the university.

He tries to relax as best he can in the cramped space of the backseat but it’s a tight fit. Leaning back, he lets Rey and Luke’s chatter wash over him as he gazes out at the rolling pastures as the greenery gives way to the grey stone and glass buildings of Dublin.

Leia had thought he was being overdramatic and ridiculous to uproot his life like this but he didn’t expect her to understand. She seems happy to have her push-pull relationship with his father but Kylo wasn’t like that, he craved a connection, having someone to care about. Plus, with the frustration over his work, the time was ripe for a fresh start. You were never too old for one of those, right?

_Right?_

Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose then runs his hands through his hair. No, it was time to move on - if Poe could do it, so could Kylo.

He must drift off to sleep because in no time they’ve pulled up in front of Rey and Luke’s small townhouse with the blue door. Kylo comes to with Rey grinning at him from the front seat.

“Ky, we’re here.”

\----

Kylo’s week in Dublin flies by in a blur. He’s jetlagged for a lot of it, eating and sleeping at odd hours, but much of the time is spent organizing himself for the upcoming school year, meeting his colleagues in the department, some of the graduate students, and shopping for the things he’ll need in his new house.

Rey takes some of the week off work to spend with him and together they make a few runs to various stores, acquiring linens and bedding, flat-packed furniture, kitchen wares, and even securing the rental of a car for a year. She and Kylo also visit Phoenix Park to see the deer; Kylo holding a wiggling Bebe so that the small dog doesn’t chase the deer in his eagerness to play and make new friends.

Now, all alone in his newly-painted cottage, Kylo begins to feel the first tingles of uncertainty. Slane is a pretty village but it’s so quiet at night, Kylo can hear the rushing of the river from his bedroom. He often lies awake at night, tossing and turning in his new bed that doesn’t smell like anything, on stiff sheets yet to be softened by a hundred turns in the washing machine. In the small hours of the morning, all alone, he has nothing but his memories for company. He tries not to torture himself reliving every awful fight and hurtful thing that has passed between him and Poe but the memories come unbidden. Every small career set back needles him, his traitorous brain telling him to just accept that this was the best it would get for him and to just deal with it.

Kylo wakes, bleary-eyed and achy, early one morning, well before his alarm. The sun had just risen, splashing a colourful medley of pinks and oranges across his bedroom walls; the flocks of small songbirds that live in the trees in the garden sing raucously as they greet the day. He buries his head beneath his pillows but it’s no use - he’s wide awake.

With his stolen time this morning, Kylo decides he’ll check out the trails that parallel the River Boyne. The river runs fast and deep beside the town of Slane and Kylo is fortunate to have found a cottage that backs onto the river with a densely forested area between. He’s never had a garden or any sort of outdoor area to call his own before and so far, he’s already fairly enchanted with the overgrown garden and the forest beyond the property line. The green belt that borders his property and runs the length of the river actually makes up part of the demesne of Slane Castle but the walking trails are open to the public and very popular with the locals.

Rolling out of bed, Kylo paws through the debris on his nightstand for a hair tie. Pulling back his tangled locks, he changes out of his sleep shorts for his black running tights, tank top, and favourite red hoodie. Once his shoes are on, he stashes his mobile phone and keys in his pocket, and leaving his house, he steps out into the brisk morning air and jogs down the street to the start of the trails.

Kylo consults the map before beginning. The network of trails isn’t all that elaborate, the main trail seems to follow the river before crossing a bridge and diverging to either travel up through the castle grounds, or continuing off towards the east. It looks like he can follow the trail from Slane through to Stackallen, and even onwards to Navan if he wanted.

Opting for the slightly shorter run this morning, Kylo heads off into the trees. He can hardly believe he has the entire trail to himself, there’s no one around and no sounds of humanity to be heard, there’s only the rushing of the water and the birdsong overhead. The shrubbery and bushes lining the gravel path are gilded silver with the morning dew, water sprinkles down to his shoulders from the canopy, a rainstorm had swept through the area overnight. The gravel crunches wetly beneath his feet as he keeps up a brisk pace.

The fresh air and greenery do Kylo some good as the further he runs, the more easily he’s able to shake off the remnants of the bad dreams and haunted memories that had plagued him during the night. To his right, there is a brief break in the trees and he spies a small, forgotten cemetery - the tall Celtic crosses lean crookedly to the side and are draped in moss. Intrigued, Kylo leaves the path and gingerly steps through the brush towards the stones. Idly, he notices an odd ring of tiny, white mushrooms on the ground but he steps through it, the mossy ground cushioning his noisy steps.

Kylo pushes through the brush into the circular clearing slightly in awe of the magic surrounding the stones. In that green cathedral of towering trees, the light filters gently through the canopy like an oil painting or illuminated manuscript and consecrated ground or not, Kylo can feel the spirituality of the place. There are about a dozen grave markers all in various states of decay, many are covered with moss and lichen, rendering the engravings illegible. He steps closer to the tallest of the monuments - a large Celtic cross that was probably at one time intricately carved and polished but is now weathered and dull. At the bottom, on the plinth, he can just make out the name “Conyngham”. Glancing around at the other stones, that name is repeated several times so Kylo assumes this must be a forgotten cemetery for the family that has resided in Slane castle for centuries.

He takes a few pictures to remind himself to research when the cemetery was deconsecrated then returns to the gravel path to continue his run. He arrives at the bridge having encountered no further hidden glens or graveyards. The sun is steadily climbing higher in the sky and a glance at his phone tells him that it’s approaching half six in the morning; his stomach rumbles then, reminding him that dinner was hours and hours ago.

On his return journey, he begins to feel as if he’s being followed but quick glances over his shoulder reveal nothing but the brush and trees gently fanning in the breeze. His attention is snagged for a few minutes by a flurry of incoming emails - someone in his department is also an early riser so he distractedly slows to a walk, absorbed with answering emails and ignoring the forest surrounding him.

The soft and steady pad of footsteps eventually draws Kylo’s attention over his shoulder. Glancing back, he jumped in surprise because following him is a small red fox all gangly legs and bushy, bottle-brush tail. The fox stops when Kylo stops; it sits on its haunches, tail twitching excitedly behind it as it regards Kylo with what he swears is a foxy equivalent of a smile on its face. When Kylo starts moving, the fox follows.

The animal is rather small, Kylo assumes it’s a juvenile fox, newly left the den and looking for an easy meal, and since it’s unlikely to harm him, Kylo just shrugs to himself and continues walking. Rather than return all the way to the beginning of the trail, Kylo cuts through a narrow deer track that leads right to his garden with the small fox ghosting after him. As he hops over the crumbling stone wall that borders the back of his property, the fox disappears from sight and Kylo hopes that it’ll find its own way home.

After his sleepless night and early morning run, Kylo is famished so he sets about making a bigger breakfast than he would normally have time for during the work-week. He fills his plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, a large bunch of rocket and other greens, and when the toast pops up, he slathers the multigrain surfaces with peanut butter and takes his plate outside to eat on the patio, reluctant to leave the early morning peace of the serene garden for the bustle of more emails, traffic reports, and the start of a new workday.

The cottage in Slane has a lot going for it, Kylo thinks as he chews meditatively and watches the garden grow. He likes the bold red front door with the lion’s head door knocker for one. Another is the garden. The small square of greenery is wild and overgrown with three fruits trees taking up much of the area. In another corner is a vegetable garden that has gone to seed, whoever rented the house last had apparently not had much of a green thumb - Kylo doesn’t either so the garden will likely remain wild. Along the back is the stone boundary wall, crumbling and dilapidated now, but at one time was probably the demesne wall of the castle grounds.

A rustling in the rose bushes draws Kylo’s eye to a pair of inquisitive triangular ears poking up from the brush - the fox has obviously not gone home. The roses shiver and rustle again as the fox settles himself on the ground, its front paws extend out from the foliage and its sharp muzzle resting on top of its furry, black paws. The fox’s green eyes are wide and beseechingly fixed upon Kylo’s plate. 

Kylo smiles at the fox’s determination so he sets the plate of scraps down onto the gray flagstones - there’s not much left, only a scoop of congealed eggs, a piece of bacon, and the crusts of his toast. Kylo takes the cutlery and his coffee cup with him into the kitchen so they can soak before he has to leave for the city. He glances out the window as he fills the sink with sudsy water and sees the fox scuttling across the garden, weaving in and out of the shadows and trees to bolt down the remains of Kylo’s breakfast before bounding back to the safety of the rose bushes.

Kylo fetches the plate, giggling when he sees that the fox has literally licked it clean. He returns to the kitchen, locking the garden door behind him. Giving the dishes a thorough scrub and rinse in scalding water, Kylo stacks them in the dishwasher then heads upstairs to get ready for his day.

He doesn’t expect to see the little fox again.

\----

The fox returns a day later to Kylo’s surprise and delight. The determined little creature is pleasant company and seems content to spend its time in the garden, sleeping amongst the flowering bushes or attempting to play games with the unlucky mice or pesky squirrels that also inhabit the overgrown garden.

Slinking as close to the house as it dares, the fox sits partially concealed by the trunk of the apple tree, its bright green eyes following Kylo’s movements through the kitchen window. Kylo isn’t sure if that’s normal behaviour for foxes, they weren’t that common in Manhattan and he’s not sure if he’s ever seen one beyond a few camping trips to the Catskills or road trips further west.

Kylo is due to be on campus earlier than usual today for a staff meeting so he’s forgone the usual morning run and proper breakfast in favour of a smoothie. He glances down at the bright green concoction then out at the hopeful fox - do foxes like blackberries, kale, and other non-meat options? He decides to at least share a small portion with the fox and so delivers a small ramekin of the smoothie out onto the patio and then retreats to the doorway to watch what would happen. The fox cocks his head at Kylo then glances towards the offering, nostrils flaring at the sweet scent. It slinks forward to sniff suspiciously at the bowl, then the fox gives Kylo a withering look but nevertheless laps up the smoothie in three quick flashes of its pink tongue. The fox barks twice in quick succession, its bushy tail wagging furiously, then retreats to the shade of the apple tree.

Kylo retrieves the bowl, smirking at the polished gleam of the licked-clean surface. He looks over at the fox, an eyebrow raised in question and it must be a trick of the light but he could swear that the fox shrugged rather ruefully at him. He turns back to the house with a grin on his face.

As Kylo pulls his car away from the curb to make the half-hour drive to Dublin, he grins again at the fox’s antics. Flipping on the radio to get the latest traffic reports, Kylo navigates the narrow roads of Slane village and heads towards the highway. He’s been finding the drive to the city quite pleasant, to his surprise. He’d thought maybe commuting by car would be tiresome and dull but the countryside is so ridiculously picturesque with its patchwork of farmers fields and low stone walls that it never fails to soothe his frantic thoughts. The only mildly frustrating part of the journey is hitting the traffic snarls around Drumcondra. But, all in all, living in Slane has worked out better than Kylo could have hoped for. He breathes a tiny sigh of relief at the surprising good luck, there had been a lot of potentials for things to go sideways.

Kylo plans his day a little in his head as he drives: the staff meeting is followed by a full day of classes - no office hours today, however, those are held on Wednesdays - then he should try to get home and go for a run before he loses the daylight. He idly wonders what the fox might like for dinner and that thought shakes him out of his reverie. He laughs at himself for meal planning for a fox as he carefully switches off the radio and chooses a podcast and settles in for the drive.

\----

Kylo returns to his cottage in the evening with a full bag of marking and a surprise for the fox; before leaving the city, he’d stopped at a pet store and purchased two large stainless steel feeding bowls so that the fox could have his own set of dishes and stop using Kylo’s, it couldn’t be sanitary, even with the dishwasher.

At home, he gives the bowls a quick rinse and a scrub then fills one with fresh water. He leaves it outside on the patio for the fox before he goes for his run. Due to the shortening of the days, Kylo opts to run through the village rather than the trails; as invincible as he thinks of himself at times, he doesn’t really want to suffer a twisted ankle trying to run on the uneven trail surface in the velvety blue twilight.

To his disappointment, he doesn’t see the fox anywhere on his run but he looks forward to dinner, maybe the greedy beast will show himself then.

\----

Kylo and the little fox fall into a sort of routine. Kylo looks for him every morning when he goes for his run and then every evening when he returns from school. The curious fox is always there to greet him, perched on the chaise lounge on the patio, ears pricked with interest, bottle-brush tail snapping and dancing like a kite in the wind.

It’s such a small thing, but knowing the fox is out there in the garden lights a tiny spark of contentment inside Kylo. He likes seeing the fox curled up on the lounge chair like a donut, bushy tail covering his face, it’s quite sweet.

The silver feeding bowls have been a great success, the fox went wild with excitement when he realized what they were. The first time Kylo put out the breakfast bowl, the fox bounced around yipping happily and rolling over to wiggle excitedly on his back before wolfing down the food. Kylo figured it probably wasn’t wise to feed wildlife lest he attract more to the garden but for some reason, other animals rarely approached the yard.

Now in late September, the air was beginning to have a bite to it and it’s no longer comfortable to sit outside for meals. Usually, Kylo just leaves the dishes for the fox beside the garden door but other times, he leans against the open door frame, plate in hand while the fox noisily devours his own food, pausing only to give Kylo a foxy smile and wag of his tail.

Today is Saturday. Kylo’s schedule is blessedly free with only household chores and laundry to take up his time. As the days are still breaking clear and fine, Kylo decides to go for a longer run this morning unsure of how many more pleasant days he’ll get as winter approaches.

He changes into his running tights and pulls his hoodie over his head, shaking the hair out of his eyes. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he heads out the door, looking around for the fox. It’s nowhere to be seen this morning so Kylo hops over the stone wall and weaves his way along the deer track to the gravel trail.

As he runs, he falls into a rather meditative state. He reflects over the last few weeks at school, where he’d met his new colleagues and began the hard work of making new friends. There are six other professors in the Art History and Celtic Studies department at school and Kylo had felt some trepidation about joining. Would they welcome him with open arms, or would he be kept from the inner circle? When he had come for his interview, one of the things he found he liked about the department was the easy camaraderie that seemed prevalent - many office doors were open and welcoming, closing only to take phone calls or one-on-one meetings, the activity board mounted on the wall outside the main office was overflowing with notices about upcoming events, guest speakers, board game nights, and student art shows. There were always fresh flowers on the receptionist’s desk and the department had a nice atmosphere, and Kylo hoped to slot in seamlessly, if possible. It was always difficult to be the new face around the office.

To his relief, the six other staff members had proven welcoming and he’d even been invited for drinks with them next week as a way to celebrate the start of term and to welcome Kylo as the seventh member of the department. He’ll only admit to being a little bit nervous about the drinks night to Rey; sometimes he can’t help but feel too big, too out of place in intimate gatherings like that. He fervently hopes they won’t ask too many personal questions, he’d rather just stick to discussions about the art world and whether Jackson Pollock is overrated or not.

Kylo rather thinks he is.

Now that school is settling into a steady routine and with the additional distraction of the fox friend in the garden, Kylo finds that he’s been sleeping better. He’s still plagued with bad dreams but they’re less frequent now. And even though his mind shies away from memories of Poe and his old life when they do float in front of his eyes at night, some of the sting has gone.

A joyful bark from behind drags Kylo out of his woolgathering. He glances over his shoulder to see the fox rushing to catch up with him, tail flying behind like a flag. He stops to wait for the fox to catch up and when it does, he smiles down at it. The fox’s triangle ears are standing at attention as he looks up at Kylo, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Are you coming with me this morning?” Kylo asks, amused.

The fox barks an affirmative then dashes off up the path, stopping to look back at Kylo it beckons to him with a toss of its head. He laughs.

“Alright then, wait for me.”

He takes off after the fox and the two of them head towards the bridge. The fox occasionally rushes ahead only to double back, barking excitedly at Kylo, urging him to hurry. They race each other along the path until Kylo begins to tire, then they jog along at a companionable pace with the fox gliding silently alongside him.

Together, they thump across the wooden footbridge in the shadow of the castle and its neighbouring distillery. Kylo and the fox travel along the path, the way becoming less groomed and more of a footpath. There are parts where the ground is wet and slippery, and other sections he and the fox are forced to scramble over rocks to find the continuation of the path. 

The walk to Navan is just over two hours. When Kylo spies the small collection of houses and farmyards that make of the hamlet of Barristown, he and the fox turn back, leaving the four-hour hike there and back to Navan for another day.

Returning to the crumbling stone wall that denotes his garden, Kylo and the fox hop the wall. The fox sits beside Kylo while he fishes around in his pockets for his keys. Unlocking the door, Kylo looks down at the fox.

“Do you want to come in for breakfast?”

To his surprise, the fox nods and trots through the open door, unafraid. Kylo just shakes his head as he follows the wagging tail inside. Maybe Rey is right, maybe the isolation isn’t good for him. He closes the door and turns to meet the fox’s green eyes, an answering smile bloomed across his face in response to the bright-eyed alertness of the fox.

Or perhaps he’s right where he should be?

\----

It’s the Friday of the Bank holiday weekend in October and Kylo feels like celebrating. At school, his classes have completed their mid-term examinations and while he has several piles of marking sitting on his desk, he can tell from his initial review of their work that many of them are excelling. He’s pleased to see that his students aren’t simply regurgitating names and dates back to him but instead, making informed and insightful observations about the subject matter. Their critical analysis of the themes they’ve covered in the first half of the term is gratifying to read - he’s worked hard to open their eyes to the world of art history beyond Europe.

From the floor behind him, the fox thumps his tail on the hardwood floor and barks happily, sensing Kylo’s good mood. Kylo grins over his shoulder at the fox.

“You’ll have to be patient,” He says, stirring the sauce in the pan. “Dinner is at least forty-five minutes away.”

Kylo inhales deeply of the basil and oregano in the pan. He’s making vegetable lasagna as a treat for both himself and the fox and the sauce is nearly ready to go. He’ll probably be eating the leftover lasagna for a week but the brisk autumn weather and cool grey skies call out for comfort food. Who is he to resist?

With the sauce completed, he begins to construct the lasagna, layering noodles, thin slices of eggplant, cheese, and the vegetable-laden sauce into the pan. Topping everything with a dusting of parmesan cheese, he covers the pan and slides it into the oven.

As he’s stacking the dishes into the sink to soak the fox barks again. Kylo looks down at him.

“You’re right, we do need some music.”

Wiping his hands dry, Kylo goes over to the sleek silver Bluetooth stereo and turns it on, waiting for a few seconds for his phone to connect. He pressed the button to randomly play his whole music library but he hesitates as the familiar strains of guitars and base pour from the speakers. He debates changing the song because it reminds him so strongly of Poe - it had been one of the first shows they’d attended together.

The fox whines suddenly, sensing Kylo’s abrupt change in mood and he glances down at the little animal. The fox brushed his tail over the floorboards a few time, head cocked to the right, ears pricked attentively in Kylo’s direction, and Kylo smiles. He shouldn’t stop listening to his favourite songs because of the memories attached, it’s time for some new memories so he let the song play.

_This fire grows higher_  
_This fire grows higher_

Besides, he’s celebrating the successful first half of the term, he needs to focus on the small joys in his life, not the past. He’d received positive reviews from his students and the department head herself had said she’s pleased with Kylo’s work.

_When there’s a burning in your heart_  
_An endless yearning in your heart_  
_Build it bigger than the sun_  
_Let it grow_

He lets the music carry him away, tapping his foot and humming as he washes the dishes. At his feet, the fox barks and chirrups as it sits up on its haunches, paws folded in front of it and a foxy smile on its face, tail wagging madly as Kylo’s brighter mood returns. Grinning, Kylo quickly dries his hands so he can dance around the kitchen.

“_And if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born_,” Kylo sings self-consciously, voice quiet at first. “_Then it’s time to go_.”

The fox whines as it hops up and rests its front paws on Kylo’s knee. The two of them do a wobbly shuffling two-step back and forth then Kylo dances in a circle with the fox gleefully weaving between his feet.

“_‘Cause when you find yourself a villain, in the story you have written, it’s plain to see_,” Kylo raises his voice as the song sweeps him away. “_That sometimes the best intentions are in need of redemption..._” 

He stoops to gather up the fox, much to its delight and together, they dance around the kitchen. He holds the fox carefully cradled in the crook of his arm while it gazes up at him, jewel-bright eyes fixed on his face and howling in tune with his own shaky voice.

“_Would you agree, if so, please show me_,” Kylo holds the fox up to sing directly to his face, gently swaying them both in time to the music. “_This fire grows higher, this fire grows higher_.”

As the song comes to an end, Kylo sweeps them both into a deep bow. When he rights himself again, the fox wiggles with delight and buries its face beneath Kylo’s chin.

Kylo laughs as he tucks the fox carefully under his arm to carry it into the parlour, leaving the music playing.

“_Oh, oh, oh, oh, this autumn love_,” Kylo sings along with the next song.

The fox trills along in time with Kylo, whining when Kylo sets it down on the armchair beside the old brick fireplace.

“Ben Gibbard is a genius,” Kylo sighs. “He always seems to write exactly how I’m feeling.”

The fox scoffs under its breath. Kylo glances back over his shoulder with a grin.

“You don’t agree?”

The fox shrugs then flops down into a loaf, stretching out across the chair with its ears alert, tail wagging madly. Kylo smiles as he sits at his desk in front of the window with the drapes drawn against the late autumn chill.

With thirty minutes still on the timer, he has some time to work a bit more on one of the three book reviews he’s been asked to write for publications in London and one based in New York. He’d been flattered when the editors had sought him out specifically and expressed their disappointment that he had decamped for Ireland, leaving New York and its bustling art scene behind. He didn’t explain the reasons behind his move, only that opportunity had called.

He flips through his notes refreshing himself as the fox makes an impressive leap from the chair to the desk, landing daintily beside Kylo but leaving the piles of marking and books undisturbed by the sudden movement. The fox coos softly as Kylo sweeps his hand down the plush fur of the fox’s back then scritches behind its ears. Satisfied with the show of affection, the fox sits behind the open laptop with its tail curled around soot-black paws and noses its sharp face in between the gap in the drapes so it can keep an eye on the twilight street beyond the window.

\----

Later, once dinner was finished, and the kitchen is clean, Kylo and the fox sprawl out on the sofa to watch a movie. The fox starts out by Kylo’s feet but gradually inches its way forward until it curled into a round, fuzzy ball on Kylo’s chest, tail wrapped around its body covering its face. Kylo huffs a quiet laugh as the fox snores and mutters to itself as it sleeps.

Slowly so as not to wake the fox, he reaches down to search around on the floor for his phone. Retrieving it, he takes a couple of pictures of the sleeping animal, admiring how plush and soft its fur is. The little fox hadn’t really lost the gangly long-leggedness it had when Kylo first spotted it, but its fur is less scruffy and now a sleek, deep russet colour brindled with black. The black of its legs and ears is deep and rich, and the whites of its bottle-brush tail and muzzle are snowy and pristine. It’s a mystery to Kylo how the fox stays so clean and picture-perfect looking while it rummages around his house and garden all day.

Out of curiosity, he opens Wikipedia on his phone and begins reading up on red foxes. He frowns at the screen - the description of fox behaviour on the website didn’t match his fox at all. For one thing, the website notes that foxes have a strong scent and, Kylo leans forward to sniff cautiously at the fox, this one smells a bit like a garden, botanical and earthy rather than unpleasant and stale. The fox also doesn’t behave as described, Kylo could swear the fox actually listens when he speaks, understands him completely, and responds in kind. Some of the fox’s expressions and body movements are eerily human.

As the movie ended and the credits began to roll, Kylo shoves the phone into his pocket with a shrug, chalking the fox’s odd behaviour up to its proximity to humans and nothing more. His subtle movements wake the fox who opens his bright green eyes to regard Kylo softly.

“Time for bed,” Kylo says, gathering the fox up to place it on the ground. “Let me get the door for you.”

The fox shakes its head then scurries away upstairs before Kylo can even react. Quickly, he turns off the tv and secures the house for the night before rushing upstairs to find the fox sprawled out on his bed.

“Ah, alright, just this once,” Kylo says. “I guess.”

The fox barks as it rolls onto its back, wiggling with delight, tail thumping on the sheets. Kylo smiles then heads to the bathroom to prepare for sleep. Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later, hair a bit damp and curling at the ends, he strips down to his black boxer shorts and a tank top. Throwing his clothes into the hamper, he crawls beneath the soft sheets and quilts of his bed, sighing softly as his body relaxes into the mattress. He turns onto his side, eyes already getting heavy with sleep. The fox slinks closers and curls itself up in the curve of Kylo’s body and promptly begins snoring. 

Feeling at peace for the first time in a long time, Kylo drowses in bed, listening to the rush of the river and the quiet snuffles and snores of the fox. Before he falls asleep, he feels the quick swipe of a warm, wet tongue on his cheek as the fox cuddles closer. Kylo presses his face into the pillow and falls into a dreamless slumber.

\----

Kylo is disoriented upon waking - the rush of the river, the faint roar of traffic on the main road, and the muffled growls of the fox combine to trick Kylo’s sleep-addled mind into thinking he’s back in New York. Blinking slowly in the pastel morning light that filters through the charcoal gray drapes, Kylo gently comes back to himself. He notices the pale blue walls of his bedroom, the dazzling piece of modern art a friend had painted for him as a going-away gift hanging on the wall opposite his bed. Ah, not New York then. Slane, Ireland instead.

A low sound pulls his attention away from the art and over to the fox, huddled like a loaf in the middle of the bed, legs tucked beneath its sleek body, head and inquisitive muzzle stretched out before it with ears twitching at something that has captured its attention. 

Kylo watches, quietly amused as the fox leaps straight up in the air, body curving in an arc before it pounces on his foot beneath the blankets. The fox paws at the covers in consternation, head canted to the right as it tries to work out a solution, then it performs its pounce and bounce trick again, play-biting and digging, trying to get to the temptation that is Kylo’s ankle.

He laughs at the fox’s antics and the animal turns, ears pricked. Seeing that he’s awake, the fox pretends to sneak up on him, slinking across the bed slowly only to lightly pounce onto the pillow beside Kylo’s head. The fox laughs as it bats Kylo in the face with its luxuriant tail. Kylo sits up, resting back against the wooden headboard, and the fox pours itself into his lap to sit in the nest made by his crossed legs and the pile of blankets. He scritches behind the fox’s ears then tickles it beneath its chin, smiling at the little chirps and barks the fox makes in encouragement. Burying his hands in the fox’s soft fur, Kylo pets the thick ruff of fur around the fox’s neck then smooths his hands down the fox’s back.

The fox stretches out with one of its forelegs, placing its small paw in Kylo’s large hand. He closes his grasp around the delicate foot, smoothing his thumb over the dainty paw, feeling the long bones of the fox’s foot beneath its soft fur. Holding the fox’s paw, Kylo has a sudden thought.

What about fleas?

It didn’t occur to him before he invited the fox into his cottage. He scrutinizes the fox’s fur - it appears healthy enough to him and besides, the fox had been roaming around the house now for a couple of weeks, wouldn’t he have noticed fleas by now? Or been bitten himself?

Kylo scrabbles around on the nightstand and comes up with his phone. Consulting the time he sees that it’s late enough that the veterinary clinic up the road should be open. Extricating himself from the fox, he grabs yesterday's jeans and throws them on, adding a navy blue hoodie over his tank top.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” He says to the fox as he hurries from the room.

The fox nods before curling up into a ball and falling back asleep.

Downstairs, Kylo grabs his keys and wallet from his desk then shoves his feet into his boots. Taking his coat from upon the hook, he leaves the cottage, stepping out into the brisk autumn day. Winter is definitely on its way - the trees have lost all their leaves by now, their skeletal branches looking stark against the slate-gray sky. Kylo can definitely smell rain on the wind as a strong gust sweeps up the street, brushing his untidy hair from his face.

Kylo walks past St. Patrick’s Church with its tall, gray stone spire then turns the corner and heads towards the bright blue door of the veterinary surgery. Luckily for him, the surgery appears quiet this morning, no cars are parked out front and as Kylo approaches the door, he sees only the shaggy, blond head of the assistant peeking out above their computer monitor. Kylo enters the surgery and steps up to the desk, the assistant tears his gaze away from his phone, eyebrow quirked in question.

“Ah, hi,” Kylo starts, not sure how to explain his situation. “There’s this fox-”

“We don’t treat wildlife,” The blond man intones, bored. “You’ll have to take it to the Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation Center in Drogheda.”

“Oh no, the fox isn’t sick or injured.” Kylo tries again. “I was just wondering about fleas-”

“As I said, we don’t take in wildlife, we just treat cats and dogs.” The man pauses. “Sometimes Dr. Hopkins will make house calls for a sick horse… but that’s not really her area of expertise.”

Kylo grunts in frustration. He glances around the waiting room and spies a rack of pet supplies, including a selection of flea collars. He grabs one from the display, then adds a couple of toys, to soften the blow of the flea collar, and brings them back to the counter.

“I’ll get these then.”

The blond man looks skeptical. “You’re going to put a flea collar on a fox?”

“No!” Kylo rambles. “Obviously not. It’s for my… dog.”

“You have a dog and a fox?”

“No no, just a dog,” Kylo babbles heartily, desperately wanting this interaction to be over. “The fox lives in the woods, of course, I mean where else do foxes live. Right?”

The man clearly doesn’t believe Kylo but he rings up the purchases without further comment. Kylo takes the bag with his receipt and flees the surgery.

Returning home, Kylo finds the fox in his nest of blankets in front of the fireplace in the parlour. Its tail whisks across the floor when it sees Kylo at the door. Setting the bag of toys down on his desk, Kylo flops down onto the sofa with the flea collar. The fox, now sensing something is afoot, sits up in its nest, ears quirked in interest, suspicion in its eyes. Kylo slides to the floor and scoots forward, hand out to calm the fox. As he tries to fasten the collar around the fox’s neck, it wriggles out of his grip and dashes away upstairs. Kylo heaves himself up off the floor and runs up the stairs two at a time.

The fox leads him on a merry chase around his cottage and Kylo is sweating by the time he manages to tackle the fox in the parlour and fasten the collar around its neck. The fox flops over on its back, black paws in the air, gurgling as if it's grievously injured. Kylo just rolls his eyes.

“I just want to make sure you stay healthy.” He turns away to fetch the bag of toys from the desk. “Look, I got you a surprise...”

His voice trails off as he looks down at the fox now sitting up on its haunches, the collar on the floor beside it, a toothy grin on its face.

“Huh,” Kylo mumbles. “How’d you get that off so fast.”

He reaches for the collar again but the fox is too quick for him. Snatching up the collar, the fox bolts upstairs with Kylo in pursuit. Too clever by half, Kylo is unable to discover the place the fox stashed the collar even after half an hour of searching.

Kylo returns to the parlour in defeat. The fox is perched on the chocolate brown armchair looking smug. Kylo sits heavily on the sofa and glares at the fox.

“Fine, you win but you’d better not get fleas.”

The fox rolls its eyes leaps from the chair to the sofa, landing beside Kylo. Placing its front paws on Kylo’s chest, the fox snuffles through Kylo’s hair then swipes its tongue across his cheek.

“Still friends then?” Kylo asks.

The fox nods then rolled onto its back and grabs at Kylo’s hand with its front paws, indicating that Kylo should pet its belly and chest. He obliges, running his fingers through the soft, thick fur. The fox closes its eyes in bliss, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Kylo’s stomach rumbles then, causing the fox’s ears to swivel around in interest.

“You want breakfast?” He says. “I was thinking omelettes.”

The fox barks a reply, sitting up eagerly. It bounds from the sofa and dashes to the kitchen, its claws clicking on the worn floorboards. Kylo takes the dog toys from the shopping bag and tosses them onto the fox’s nest for it to find later, then hastily follows the fox into the kitchen when he hears the fox’s feeding dishes go clattering across the floor.

\----

Kylo’s prediction of rain comes true. October is swept out by an early winter rainstorm that seems to park itself over County Meath and refuses to budge for weeks. The rain is unrelenting, falling in sheets one minute, then tapering off to a light shower the next as the sky turns from light gray to deep pewter spackled with tufts of clouds and stretching from Slane onto forever, it seems. There is no break in the cloud cover nor does the sun make a weak and watery appearance. Despite the rain-soaked weather, Kylo loves how green everything looks - the grass pops in vibrant shades of minty green to deep emerald and to an almost lime-green. His own garden is mostly barren save for some evergreen box shrubs that grow along one of the garden walls and a coat of English ivy on the demesne wall.

Morning runs are now a soggy affair. Kylo comes home each morning soaked to the bone despite his waterproof running gear but feeling invigorated nonetheless. The fox, however, is less fond of the rain and more often it will either wait for Kylo, huddled beneath the picnic table on the patio, or in the kitchen, sharp little face pressed anxiously against the window watching for Kylo’s return. On the odd rainy morning the fox can be tempted to leave the warmth of the electric fireplace in the parlour, it barks and yaps with delight when Kylo bundles it up in a fluffy towel to dry off in front of the fireplace while Kylo has his shower to warm up.

Slane itself is even quieter in the winter - fewer tourist buses pass through on their way to Newgrange and there are no outdoor events to be held on the castle grounds until the spring. Kylo sees fewer people out for daily runs or walks, only the most dedicated brave the cold rain and damp skies.

The River Boyne runs fast and high during the November rain. The walking trail is set far enough back from the banks that it rarely gets washed out but when Kylo reaches the bridge, he notices that the water nearly brushes the struts. The slippery, difficult trail leading to Navan isn’t walkable in the rain so Kylo keeps to the groomed gravel and maintained trails instead.

Rey has been wanting to come out to the cottage in Slane for a movie night but Kylo had been putting her off, not wanting to ask her to drive in the bad weather. It has been an unexpected blessing of his move to Ireland to be able to spend more time with his uncle and cousin. When Kylo was younger, he and his parents would visit nearly every summer but the time spent in play was usually limited as Leia would pull Kylo hither and thither as she visited old friends, teachers, and co-workers and in the blink of an eye, the two-week vacation would be over. As they both grew older, school and work, friends and lovers inevitably put a dent into the time the cousins were able to spend together. Kylo would always look for conferences or symposia that would take him to Dublin or close enough that he could visit, and Rey spent a summer interning at an engineering firm in New York.

Now that he is more or less permanently settled in Ireland, he’s been able to spend more time with Rey. Their family is a small one so he’s enjoyed the chance to reconnect. Rey hasn’t been out to the cottage since he moved in, and now that the rest of his possessions and books have arrived, it feels more like home.

As he waits for Rey’s car to appear, Kylo sits at his desk in front of the parlour window working on an article for publication about the Celtic art revival movement of the 19th century. Much like the book reviews he was asked to write, the funding for this journal article seemed to drop out of the sky and into his lap - it’s enough money to fund some short trips to London, Edinburgh, and even Brittany if he’s careful enough with the money. The grant is just another in a string of rather fortune happenings that have befallen him since moving to Ireland, it’s been enough that Kylo starts to wonder if he has a guardian angel out there somewhere.

Since the weather is rather dismal and sombre, Kylo has pulled the drapes closed and switched on the electric fireplace to make the parlour, lit only by standing lamps, snug and comfortable. The warm toffee brown walls match the exposed overhead beams and worn floorboards, all the wood is burnished a rich brown by time and wear. The built-in bookshelves on either side of the fireplace are filled with books of every kind; his textbooks and academic publications sit shoulder to shoulder with novels of all sorts from the classics to pulp fictions.

The fox sits beside Kylo’s laptop, watching him work and reading over his shoulder. Well, probably not actually reading, Kylo thinks, maybe just watching the cursor move across the screen. He glances discreetly at the fox’s face and it looks for all the world as if its eyes are actually following the lines of text, its luminous green eyes move side to side as it flicks over the paragraphs. The fox is still but its tail sweeps across the desk periodically, indicating that it’s happy and content.

Kylo had been able to gain access to some rather high-quality colour photographs of a delicately illustrated book of Irish folklore and myths. The beautiful illuminations were carried out in the so-called Insular style, meant to replicate early medieval Irish art, and it’s one of the finest examples of the style Kylo has ever laid eyes on - he would definitely have to make time in the summer to go to London to view the manuscript in person at the National Archives. Kylo scrolls to the next slide which depicts a careful rendering of a fox, a hare, and a horse frolicking along the bottom margin of the page. The subheading reads “The Nature of the Púka” followed by a short description.

“Hey,” With a smile, Kylo turns to the fox perched beside him. “It looks like you.”

The fox tips its head to the left, then right, as if truly contemplating the likeness. It then scoffs as it glances up at Kylo, a slight sneer on its face. Kylo rubs his knuckles against the soft fur of the fox’s cheek then smooths out its whiskers.

“You’re right,” He says with mock seriousness. “That fox is too orange, you’re much more handsome.”

The fox nods regally, as if he’s merely being given his due, then hops down from the desk and over the sofa. At the same time, Kylo hears a car pull up out front so he twitches the drapes aside to see Rey stepping out of her car, hauling a tote bag full of snacks as well as her overnight bag out from the back seat.

Kylo has the red door open before Rey can knock. She sweeps inside on a strong gust of wind, her tote bags buffeting him as she reaches up for a hug. Handing both bags off to Kylo, Rey shucks her jacket off and hangs it up.

“Wow, the place looks great,” She said as she follows Kylo into the parlour. “I love the-”

She breaks off with a loud screech as she all but climbs up Kylo’s body to sit on his back. She points over his shoulder.

“Why is there a fox in here?”

The fox in question is perched on the arm of the sofa, head and neck stretched out to sniff interestedly at the tote bag containing the food, its tail thumping on the cushions. It chirrups at Kylo hopefully.

“Oh,” Kylo pauses. “That’s the fox, he lives out in the garden… but sometimes he likes to hang out inside.”

“What do you mean ‘sometimes he likes to hang out inside’?” Rey asks, incredulously as she climbs down from Kylo’s back. “How often does it come inside?”

“I don’t know!” Kylo says, nervous now. Maybe the fox situation is actually as strange as he’d always worried it was. “When the weather is bad, I guess.” He bites his lip as he leads Rey away from the front door and into the kitchen. “Sometimes it seems as though the fox knows I need company, and he’ll show up suddenly.”

He sets Rey’s overnight bag down on one of the kitchen chairs and the bag with the snacks on the counter. He looks up to see a complicated look on her face made up of equal parts worry for him, interest in the fox and wanting to tell him off for keeping wildlife inside.

“Well, I guess I can’t find fault with that,” She says, watching the fox trot into the kitchen, claws clicking on the wooden floorboards. “You should consider moving into Dublin, though, when your lease is up. If you’re feeling alone out here, just move into town - or even Dun Laoghaire or Blackrock, if you still want to be further out from the city.”

The fox whines forlornly at her words, looking up at Kylo with big sad green eyes.

We’ll see,” Kylo says noncommittally. “Do you want a drink? I was going to make pizza for dinner?”

“I’ll have tea for now,” She says. “It was chilly drive, I really need to get the window on the car fixed.”

Kylo puts the kettle on then brings her a mug, honey, and his poor selection of teas. He’d already made the pizza dough - it sits, rising gently, in a large ceramic bowl covered with a tea towel on the counter, filling the kitchen with a warm, yeasty scent. Rey updates Kylo about her work while he chops and dices the vegetable toppings, throwing pieces of green pepper and spinach to the fox, smiling when it deftly catches the morsels and chews noisily. He pretends he doesn’t see the look she gives him when he dumps another handful of vegetables and some slices of ham into the fox’s bowl.

Once the pizza is in the oven, Kylo joins Rey at the table to hear about her upcoming trip to Rome to participate in a sustainable engineering conference. The fox, sensing no more food is to be had at present, prances back into the parlour to presumably sprawl out in front of the fire.

“That’s not normal fox behaviour,” Rey says, watching the bottle-brush tail of the animal disappear around the corner.

“Yeah, maybe, but I guess it's just used to having people around.” Kylo reasons. “It lives out back in the castle demesne lands, and there’s a lot of walking trails through there, maybe other people have been feeding it.”

“It acts like a dog,” Rey says. “What about fleas? What if it bites you?”

“Rey, it’s fine!” Kylo promises, hands raking through his hair with nervousness. “I’m sure there are no fleas, the fox looks really healthy.” He gathers up their mugs and a bowl of popcorn. “Let’s go sit in the parlour, the pizza won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes.”

She follows him into the parlour, pausing only when she sees the fox curled up in front of the fireplace. She glances up at Kylo as they sit on the sofa, a sly grin curling up the side of her mouth.

“I guess this isn't the weirdest thing you’ve ever done - having a fox for a pet,” She kicks his leg as she settled back against the pile of pillows. “Remember your band in high school - the Knights of Ren?”

The fox barks a laugh at her words as Kylo groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Please never mention that again.”

That makes Rey and the fox laugh again, then even more uproariously as Kylo shoots them both a dark look. “You guys are so mean to me. And you-” He points an accusatory finger at the fox, “I take you into my home, share my food, and this is how you thank me?”

Rey giggles behind her hand as the fox rolls over onto its back, paws folded prettily in front of its chest, green eyes bright with merriment and pretends to be the picture of innocence.

“Sorry, Ky,” Rey giggles again. “You make it so easy sometimes.” She sobers for a moment. “I am glad, though, you seem a lot happier than when you came to us in August. Whether it’s the new job, the change of scenery, or this fox, I’m glad for it.”

Kylo, not trusting his voice, simply reaches over and squeezes her hand. She holds up her mug of tea and he clicks his own mug against it in a semblance of a toast. He gets his phone out of his pocket and opens the streaming app.

“Which movie do you want to start with?” He flicks through the suggested movies. “Do you want to get mad about infrastructure destruction, or science run amok?” 

“Science runs amok, I think,” Rey laughs, stretching her legs out to rest her feet on Kylo’s knee. The fox leaps up onto the sofa to sit between them and she scritches the fox tentatively behind its ears, smiling as it chirps and purrs. “Do you have anything where the scientist warns of impending doom, is laughed off, then it turns out they were right all along.”

Kylo grins. “Obviously I do.”

He sets the movie to play then leans back into the corner of the sofa. He sighs with contentment as the movie starts, the delicious scents of cooking pizza filled the room, and the fox sidles over to lean up against his side, a comforting and familiar warm weight. Outside, the rain drums softly against the windows and inside, a comfortable silence falls over the room.

\----

_Dear Dr. Ren,_

_As our newest staff member of the School of Art History and Cultural Policy at UCD, the Head of the College, Dr. Maximilian Veers and I have been monitoring your professional development over the course of the term. We have been extremely pleased with your teaching skills and class results. In the short time you have been with us, you have proven to be an asset to the College and to the university as a whole. We would be delighted to discuss your application for tenure with you in the new year._

_Best wishes for the holiday season._

_Rae Sloane, Ph.D_  
_Department Head, Celtic Studies, Art History, and Art_

Kylo has read the email from Dr. Sloane at least a hundred times, and then once more for good measure. He can hardly believe his good fortune - all his years of study, of work, of living the hardscrabble life of sessional lecturer, have finally paid off.

Perhaps he’s getting ahead of himself though, he doesn’t have an offer of tenure in his hand just yet, only the promise of something amazing yet to come. Still, he thinks, he’s never been approached by faculty heads about tenure before, he’s always been the one to chase them. This must be a good sign.

He can’t stop looking at the email and smiling. He’s already texted Rey and she responded with fireworks and party hat emojis, which made him laugh even more. Kylo can’t believe how his life has turned around since moving to Ireland - it truly was the best thing he could have done for himself.

Kylo sits on the floor before the fireplace, a bowl of plain popcorn in front of him, and a half decorated Christmas tree wedged in the space between his desk and bookshelf. The fox is sitting in front of him, watching him string the popcorn on some twine and then drape it around the tree, sneaking mouthfuls of the dry, unsalted popcorn when it thinks Kylo isn’t looking.

Opening the email again, Kylo grins at the fox. “Listen to this: _‘You have proven to be an asset to the College and to the university as a whole.’_ Can you believe it?”

The fox bobs its head in agreement, luminous eyes shining happily. It barks at Kylo as its tail thrashes around behind it.

“Oh, so you knew all along that it would work out? Is that what you’re saying?”

The fox nods again, jaws opening in a foxy smile. Kylo slips his phone into his pocket to he can run his fingers through the rich russet ruff at the fox’s neck. He scratches behind the alert triangle ears then slides his hands down to tickle under the fox’s chin. The fox helpfully stretches its neck and head up so that Kylo can scratch beneath its chin then run his hands down to the thick white fur on the fox’s chest

“Well, I’m glad you believe in me,” Kylo says soberly. “I wasn’t sure if this was going to pay off for me. I didn’t want to have to go back to New York at the end of the school year.”

The fox whines as it leans forward to prop its front paws on Kylo’s knee so it can swipe its pink tongue across Kylo’s cheek in reassurance.

“Here,” Kylo says. “I got you a little present.” He leans back to pull a small package from the meagre pile of gifts beneath the tree. He had a few gifts from his parents, some friends in New York, and some boxes of chocolates and bottles of whiskey and wine from his current colleagues. “Now, I know you didn’t like the flea collar but I get worried when you’re out in the forest - I don’t want someone to take a shot at you because they think you’re robbing chicken coops.”

The fox sits quietly in front of Kylo, ears standing at attention, listening to his speech. Kylo swears the fox has an almost fond expression on its face, but it could be a trick of the light. He places the slim package down in front of the fox and it paws at it, tearing the silvery paper open to reveal a pretty green collar with a silver bell attached. It looks up at Kylo with bright eyes.

“I thought the green matched your eyes,” Kylo says as he opens the box to remove the collar. “And the collar and bell would let any farmers or hunters know that you’re someone’s friend.” He holds the slim collar up. “Is it okay if I put it on you?”

The fox nods again then sits quietly as Kylo fastens the deep green collar around its neck. Kylo sits back to admire how nicely the collar looks on the fox - the green compliments the brindled russet and black fur perfectly, and the silver bell glimmers in the firelight, matching the gleam in the fox’s eyes.

“Looks great.” Kylo laughs as the fox shakes its head to hear the bell chime. 

Kylo strokes his hand down the fox’s back, smiling as the bristly tail twitches out of his grasp. Heaving himself to his feet, Kylo collects the popcorn bowl and wrapping paper.

“I’ll go make some more popcorn since someone ate it all, and the tree isn’t half decorated yet.”

The fox shrugs as if it knows nothing about the missing popcorn.

“So, I have to go to Dublin for a few days,” Kylo raises his voice so the fox can hear him from the kitchen. “But maybe I can leave the window ajar slightly so you can still come in while I’m not here. Otherwise, you’ll probably want to stay in the garden while I’m gone.”

Kylo’s phone rings as he’s putting a fresh bag of popcorn in the microwave.

“Hi Rey,” He says, pausing to listen. “Yeah, I’ll leave here in the afternoon and be in Dublin by tea.” He pauses again. “Okay, see you then.”

He disconnects the call and slips the phone back into his pocket as the timer on the microwave chimes. Filling up the bowl with the fresh popcorn, he notices the lights in the parlour flicker and a peculiar golden shimmer ripples in the corner of his eye. He returns to the parlour with the popcorn.

“May I come to Dublin with you?” A raspy, musical voice says from the parlour.

Kylo stops short, the bowl of popcorn tumbling from his hands and spilling across the wooden floorboards. The room is silent save for the spinning of the plastic bowl at his feet. 

Sitting in front of the fireplace is a lithe and lovely man, with warm golden skin and deep russet hair. The fox’s green collar with silver bell wraps delicately around the man’s slim neck. Kylo can only stare, open-mouthed at the stranger in the parlour. How did he get in here and why is he wearing the fox’s collar?

The man rises gracefully to his feet and strides towards Kylo on impossibly long legs. Kylo backs against the wall as the stranger sidles up close, his emerald eyes bright and pleading. It’s then that Kylo notices a small pair of triangle ears peeking out from the whorl of thick red hair on the man’s head; he drops his eyes to the man’s face.

“Who are you?”

The man leans in close, smiling.

“My name is Armitage,” He grasps Kylo’s hand, pressing the back of Kylo’s hand to his cheek. “You don’t recognize me?”

Kylo looks again between the fox ears, the hair, and the collar, unable to believe what his eyes are telling him. He reaches out tentatively to brush the vibrant red hair back from the man’s forehead. The green eyes gazing back at him with a fond expression that looks incredibly familiar.

“You can’t be the fox?”

“Thank you for the gift,” The man says, lifting an elegant hand to touch the bell and collar. “No one has ever cared enough to try to keep me safe while in the woods.”

“Uh...”

“I can see that you’re surprised.” The man - Armitage - says as he leads Kylo to the sofa, stepping carefully over the spilled popcorn as Kylo trips over the discarded bowl. “You’d better sit.”

“How can you… what are you?” Kylo’s brain short-circuits as he struggles to understand this strange turn of events. 

“You already know what I am,” Armitage says, unable to keep himself from wiggling a bit with excitement as if he still had his fox’s tail.

“What...” Kylo whispers, feeling like a dullard as he allows Armitage to bring him over to the sofa. “Wait. You slept in my bed!” He pauses. “You let me waltz you around the kitchen and sing!”

Armitage barks a laugh, sounding alarmingly similar to the fox’s bark. “It was fun, and you were so happy, why would I stop you.” He slides closer to Kylo as they sit down together on the sofa. Taking Kylo’s hand again he squeezes it tight, pressing their entwined hands to his heart. “Say I may come to Dublin with you, it will be such fun.”

Kylo smooths the pad of his thumb over Armitage’s knuckles remembering all the times the fox had placed its small paw in his hand. There’s nothing about the man that would suggest that he is also a fox but he does have a certain ethereal quality about him. Kylo still feels faint from the shock of Armitage’s sudden appearance but as he skims his eyes up over the rosy curves of Armitage’s hip to his narrow, sloping shoulders and up to the fond expression on his face, Kylo is undeniably intrigued by this strange man.

“You really want to come to Dublin with me?”

“If you’ll have me,” Armitage replies with a hopeful smile. “It will be an adventure.”

Kylo is helpless to prevent the answering smile that spreads across his face at Armitage’s enthusiasm. “And will you explain this all to me on the drive?”

Armitage shrugs. “You already know the legend, you showed me the manuscript yourself.” His fox ears twitch in amusement as Kylo quirks his eyebrow.

“Rey has a small, excitable dog named Bebe,” Kylo says, still reeling slightly from the sudden turn the evening has taken but slides his phone from his pocket nonetheless. “It might bark at you.”

A sly gleam lights up Armitage’s familiar jewel-green eyes. “Shall I chase it around the garden?”

That makes Kylo laugh. The slightly hysterical bubble of laughter helps to release the tension he’d been holding in his body and he slumps gently back against the cushions. He presses the phone to call Rey and holds the phone up to his ear, never taking his eyes off Armitage, who has one hand still pressed to the collar and bell around his neck, his foxy ears pricked with eagerness and interest, his eyes bright.

“Hi, Rey?” He says once she picks up, smiling shyly at Armitage. “I was just wondering if it’s alright if I bring someone with me to Christmas?”

**Author's Note:**

> For those unfamiliar with Irish folklore, the Púka is a generally benevolent trickster and shapeshifter found across Celtic cultures from Ireland to Brittany. The Púka can take the form of a horse, hare, dog, cat, or fox, and also take on human form but with animal aspects about them, such as animal ears or tails. The Púka can bring good or bad fortune but won't actually cause any harm to those who encounter one and it can also act as a guardian and helper. The Púka's share is a reference to a traditional practice whereby farmers will leave a few crops behind in the field for the Púka.


End file.
